


Secret's Out

by UnrealRomance



Series: Connected Dimensions [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU of Rewritten, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, What if she told them where she was from right after sealing the first rift?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-11 10:33:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7887859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrealRomance/pseuds/UnrealRomance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever wondered what would happen if Nik told them she was from another universe right up front after she woke up from sealing the first rift?</p><p>This is basically that. You don't have to read Rewritten to read this, but that story is a bit more complete and structured. This is more like a bunch of drabbles and what not. Though it is linear and there is a storyline and all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the things I was working on before the wrist pain and then falling ill and crap-- I'm only posting it now cause I feel especially good today. I think I might be well by next week or so.
> 
> And yeah, I didn't believe my gramma when she told me this is normal for a sinus cold, either.

Soooo...

Telling Cassandra and Solas about being from another dimension was a _bad_ idea. Go figure.

"I demand you tell me what you really are, _demon_!" Cassandra demands.

Solas sighs from his position, leaning against one of the columns. "Demons and Spirits do not lie. If she were a demon, she would be able to redirect your attention away from something or perhaps even misdirect in her speech- but this is too far for a Demon to stretch the truth."

"So she is either crazy or a liar." Cassandra decides.

"Okay. I'll prove it to you." I snort. "I'll tell both of you things that no one else knows about you."

"Go ahead." Cassandra sneers at me. "Everyone could know of my accomplishments, my life until now- there is nothing I have-"

"You read Swords and Shields." I tell her, lifting a brow.

She goes silent with her mouth hanging open.

"You are so completely in love with Swords and Shields, you contemplated having the Divine force Varric into writing the next part." I'm assuming that thought had to have crossed her mind even before she said something about it to the Inquisitor. "And you brought him personally to her because she wanted a book signed, I think I remember that. You tried to read Varric's other books and ended up throwing one across the room when he killed off your favorite character, I remember that too."

Her eyes are almost bigger than humanly possible, I think. I may be exaggerating.

Solas is watching her with narrowed eyes. "Cassandra?"

She jerks as if snapping out of a trance. "How did you know that!?"

"Cause you told me." I shrug. "Or well, another version of me anyway."

"What about me?" Solas is staring at me, searching my face.

"Thinking you're going to stump me?" I grin. "Cause we both know there's nothing out there in the world to be found about you?"

His gaze darkens. "I am an apostate, that could be true for any of us."

I laugh. "You hate tea." I tick things off on my fingers as I go. "You're an artist. You have spirit friends-" Thinking of Wisdom makes me melancholy. "Your name means Pride in Elvhen which I'm pretty sure is deliberate-"

"Anything else?" He asserts cooly.

I roll my eyes. "Do you really want me telling Cassandra anything actually personal about yourself? You don't care what books she reads and won't tease her about it, but do you actually want me revealing anything about _you_ to _her_?"

I wait for the point two seconds it takes Solas to come to a decision with a smug smirk on my face.

"Cassandra?" He turns to her.

"If you have such dangerous secrets, perhaps I _should_ hear them." She says, glaring at him.

"I wouldn't recommend that." I blink placidly when she turns her angry gaze to me. "You're kinda going to need him, and killing him or otherwise imprisoning him would not be in your own self interest."

"Says you." She says. "Who may be his ally in secret. This may be a team effort and how would I know?"

"That is a very good point, actually." I grin. "Except. You've talked to him."

"What does that have to do with anything?" She asks, baffled.

"Does Solas respect Humans?" I lift a brow again, expression going sour. "At best I'd be a lackey and he'd never tell me anything."

Solas is looking rather sour himself.

Cassandra is considering it though, and that's what's important. "Fine. But I want something embarrassing about _him_."

Solas scoffs. "What?"

"So you will be sure to keep your mouth shut about what you heard about _me_." She insists, seriously. Giving him a sideways glare.

"Solas isn't really embarrassed by anything. I mean, he looks back on his youth and shakes his head a lot but that's about it." I frown. "Guy doesn't do a lot that he's ashamed of- you know, small and trivial-wise, which should be something to admire but kinda makes you want to hate him."

She huffs and turns on her heel, stomping out of the room. "Fine!"

"I will not tell anyone you like to read smut, Cassandra." He's almost rolling his eyes as he calls after her.

She throws her hands up as she leaves the dungeon.

And then there were two.

I inhale and exhale, a bit shakily.

"You are suddenly afraid, why?" He asks, cutting straight to the point. Unlike him, isn't it?

Oh, right. Fen'Harel. No one's supposed to know. He thinks I might.

"Because regardless of having this, or not-" I hold up my Anchor'd hand and flicker my fingers. "I know you might just decide to kill me because I know too much."

His gaze is extremely deadpan as he watches me, crossing his arms and leaning on the column next to him. Basically just a square structure of rough rock- fits his minimalist aesthetic too perfectly. "And what exactly is it that you know?"

"Are you sure there are no agents down here?" I mutter.

He's still silent, but a flicker of something rushes outward from him in every direction. I blink and the disruption is gone.

"There is no one but you and I. Speak." He doesn't seem impatient, but his word choice is less careful. He is too damn good at hiding the emotion in his voice and face!

"I know who you are." I say first, gesturing mindlessly at the Anchor. "And...that this was..." I gesture at him.

His expression hardens. I don't even know how I can tell. "What is my name, then? If you are so certain I am someone else?"

I don't want to say it aloud. Paranoid that someone might hear. " _Fen'Harel_." I whisper and curl into a ball on top of my bedroll.

He looks a lot less like he's slouching now, and a lot more like he's fighting the urge to straighten like he's got a rod shoved in there in place of his spine. "I see."

"It'd be a bad idea to kill me though." I mutter and shrink further into the wall behind me. "Since I know things that could possibly help, like...a _lot_ of things."

His expression changes then. Almost irritable looking. "Why do you think I will kill you? Why do you think it would be necessary? You have already shown reluctance to speak of my secrets, why would I need more than that?"

"You killed Felassan, didn't you?" I ask. "I'm pretty sure. I never read that particular book, but there was...violent imagery that alluded to it, I think." I make a face. "And all he did was like the people here. I like the people here, too."

The wind seems to go out of his sails, so to speak. He shoves away from the wall, turns away from my cell and marches away from me. Then pauses and takes a deep breath, sighing. Turning back, he marches right up to the bars of my cell and looks at me, with an even expression.

I'm still kind of cowering here. I'm not really a fighter and he could twitch and kill me with lightning, so...

"What information can you give me?" He crosses his arms and stares me down.

"You? You mean for what you're planning to do? None. I just know stuff up till the point Corypheus is defeated. In a very specific way." I gesture and emphasize. "We need to keep things as close as possible, I think..."

"It would be wiser to keep to the path and simply navigate it, yes." He tilts his head at me. "What do you know of my plans?"

"I know what you plan to do, but not how." I shrug. "I just wish you'd do whatever you're going to do...slower."

He lifts a brow. "Slower?"

"So that people could slowly acclimatize, and wouldn't have to die." I say, eyes dropping to the ground. "The Fade is Thedas's natural state, and the Veil is an unnatural construct. It's a good thing to remove it. But...not like that. Not...with burning and death and...that's my opinion." I turn sideways against the wall and squeeze as tight to it as possible. "Don't take this the wrong way, but even knowing who you really are is sometimes an okay guy- you're still the kind of person who contemplates murdering several million people just to reclaim his own race's glory."

I glance up and his expression is shuttered.

I shrug. "I'm human, so I'm afraid. Can you blame me?"

He lifts his chin and glares down his nose at me and then something...occurs to me.

I gasp and shove myself to my feet, pointing at him.

He blinks and jerks back.

"You ass!" I throw my hand down at my side and glare at him. "Eluvians- you _know_ there are other dimensions! And you still would have let her torture me!"

And then the strangest thing happens. He _smirks_ at me, that bastard! "Being an amoral murderer, I'm sure we both agree that my methods don't matter to me. After all, the _ends_ justify the _means_ don't they?" And then his expression flattens and I can see the cold hurt written all over him as he whirls around and stalks out of the dungeon.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm a little...confused." I frown at the ridiculously over-decorated and opulent Chantry. "This isn't how the Chantry is supposed to look..."

"Is it not? Oh." Josephine flusters from her place near her office. She looks so _tired_. "I tried to get all of the tapestries I could- but then, I suppose you may be of a different Pantheon altogether-"

"Jo~sie..." I sing-song and walk slowly over to her, gesturing carefully. "Calm down. What do you mean Pantheon?" And then it clicks in my brain. "Oh. Oh god no. No. Josephine, I'm not a goddess or whatever. I'm...I guess I'm more akin to a seer or something. No magical powers- I just know things I'm not supposed to."

"But the very fact that you were able to interact with us in another reality- what is that if not godhood?" She wrings her hands and turns to me. "I understand that you would rather not be called as such, but please- for my own peace of mind. How would you like the Chantry to look?"

I sigh and crack my neck. "I'd rather it were a place you could put people who don't have homes. A shelter for orphaned children and the wounded, but-"

"I can't believe I didn't see that, of course!" She rushes back into her office. "I will have it done immediately!"

"Josephine!" I chase her into her office and sigh when I see her furiously scribbling on her notepad. I should use this to my advantage, I think. "Josephine."

She looks up, blinking sleepily at me.

"I am going to give you an order, if you think I'm a goddess, and I want you to do as I say." I walk over and plant my hands on her shoulders when she stands up straight. "I want you to sleep at _least_ four to six hours a night if you can't do eight. And the tapestries and other decorative bullshit- you can sell it back to whoever or sell it to someone new and use that money to Fund the Inquisition. Buy food, blankets, armor- stuff like that?"

She blinks again. "I...yes, I can do that for you."

"Sleep now, then." I gesture back through the door. "Cause the sun is setting and I have a feeling you're gonna need your sleep for tomorrow."

She waffles for a moment. "Oh but I...yes. I will. Yes." She trots out of her office and into the room she shares with Leliana and Cassandra, and I watch from the doorway.

She looks uneasy, but is asleep almost as soon as her head hits the pillow.

I sigh in relief and close the door, turning around and jolting when I see Leliana standing there.

She inclines her head. "You manipulated her."

"Yeah." I admit.

"If she gets this way again I don't mind." She tells me, narrowing her eyes. "But I will know if you choose to do it any other time. I do not like the idea that you can bend she and Cassandra to your will if you wish."

"I kinda figured." I shrug.

She nods. "Alright then. I need your opinion on something."

"Again?" I frown. "I probably won't know. Small things got glossed over, remember?"

"It is not in the least bit small, I assure you." She purses her lips and gestures at me to follow her into the War Room.

I follow her and groan internally at the sight of Cullen there.

"Nik." He greets me, looking kind of pale and sick. Standing at attention. Only calling me by name because I asked him to.

"Dude. I am not a goddess. Stop looking like you think I might smite you. You could literally cut my head off with one swipe of your sword." I gesture as I speak.

Leliana looks on with amusement.

Cullen pales further. "I wouldn't do that!"

I groan and throw myself across the War Table, slumping. "I'm too tired for this bullshit."

"We are attempting to scope out Therinfal Redoubt." Leliana informs me.

I throw myself away from the table, standing upright and almost falling over backwards as I right myself. "Oh. I don't think that's wise, yet?"

"We are getting a layout of the building and monitoring the situation for now." She asserts. "When anything changes, when Red Lyrium begins to spread, we will know."

"All the higher-ups should already be using the Red Lyrium by this point." I say. "And what do you need my opinion on, if not that?"

"The spirit boy you mentioned." She taps her finger against the tip of a dagger she's drawn out of her sleeve. It's smaller and slimmer than the pair she probably uses in real combat. "He has been causing chaos in our camp."

I snort. "And by chaos, do you mean misplacing drunk people's weapons and moving things around so that the right people will stumble upon just what they need at the right moment?"

She sighs. "He killed one of my agents."

I lift an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I do not know. You tell me." She lifts her chin and glares at me.

"If Cole kills anyone, it's because they need to be killed. Look into your spy's background, find out what he was doing when he died." I shrug. "S'all I got. Sorry. Cole is Compassion. If he killed him, he was probably doing something wrong- or it could've been a mercy killing." I admit. "If Cole hears suicidal thoughts sometimes he doesn't realize he shouldn't. We should probably recover him if we can for just that reason- he doesn't quite know better, yet."

"And why..." Cullen stops and grimaces when I turn my attention to him. Not in any noticeable way, but the strain is there on his face.

I finish his sentence for him. "Why not kill the boy who manifested from the Fade?" I sigh. "If you've gotta think of me as some kinda goddess, think of me as the kind who has to have mercy. On everyone. All the time." I growl a little to myself. "It's incredibly _frustrating_ , but it's who I am. I'm not wrathful unless you attack the innocent, and I'm not murderous. Period."

"I...see." Cullen looks a lot less pale, but he's still rigid and proper as he looks at me. "We will extend the hand of friendship, then...to this..."

"Cole." I remind him with a smile. "His name is Cole."


	3. Chapter 3

"No." I cross my arms and smirk.

"Oh come on. You gotta tell me!" Varric is grinning and shoves a mug of ale across the table at me.

I'm more a wine girl, but if you wanna forget the day even happened, Thedosian ale is good for that. "That's private information, Varric."

"But he's such a damn enigma." Varric sighs. "How will I write about a guy I know nothing about?"

"You know nothing of his past. That doesn't mean you can't know him." I take a sip of the ale and grimace. "God, this is like-what. Paint thinner?" I mutter. "A person isn't their past. It shapes them and everything, but different people react to different events in different ways."

"So...?" He leads me on with a hand gesture.

"So." I roll my eyes, grinning. "A person can come out of a shit situation as a shit person, or as a good person. Knowing their past doesn't tell you anything but _how_ they got that way. And you can give readers enough to keep them satisfied with just the few tidbits you already know. What _do_ you know?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"I know the guy said he grew up in some dinky town where nothing exciting happens- but that has to be shit." He snorts. "Chuckles has way too much baggage for a small skirmish in a farm town to have been the cause for all his..." He gestures nonsensically.

"Cryptic mysticism?" I ask, grinning.

"Pfft." He laughs. "Shit, maybe _you_ should be writing the book."

"I could co-author if you ever need a second pair of eyes but eh..." I grimace. "I can't really write anything on my own that doesn't have a romantic subplot or...well, it's complicated. I like how _people_ interact. Especially people who shouldn't, but do anyway and it's _awesome_." I think my eyes are sparkling, because he's shaking his head and grinning at me. "What?"

"I knew it." He sits back in his seat and crosses his arms. "As soon as I saw you, I pegged you for _some_ kind of romantic. Though I have to say I wasn't expecting star-crossed or tragic."

"It wouldn't have to be tragic if the characters weren't so stupid and could just get over themselves." I roll my eyes. "You don't write stories like that, right? I've only been able to read excerpts of your novels."

He laughs. "I hope not."

"I just wanna read a story where two people from opposing factions get together, fall in love- end a war. No death, no destruction- no suicide at the end. Love conquers all. But those stories are apparently boring." I sigh. "No romantic conflict doesn't mean no conflict period, and even when ending a war- there are tensions and plots and things...but noooo."

"I'll think about it. Maybe I'll be able to do something about that someday. But I'm kind of crap at anything that _isn't_ a little tragic." He shrugs.

"Yeah I know." I cross my arms on the table. "You've told...another version of me that before. Or maybe you were talking to someone else and I just heard you bantering..." I dunno.

"That dimensional thing is gonna give me a headache if I try to understand it- so. Whatever you say." He gestures at the barmaid, Flissa. "Another round, over here!"

...

"I'm not a mage, I don't do bows and I cannot swing a sword to save my life." I tell Cullen.

He lifts a brow at me, much more at ease since I stopped getting all uppity about him thinking I'm a goddess or something. "Then how do you expect me to be able to teach you to 'not die horribly'?"

"Ducking and rolling?" I ask, making exasperated hand gestures. "Using shields? Maybe even some endurance training so I won't keel over while I'm trying to run for my life?"

"I suppose I could put you to training with the regular recruits...after all, they don't know exactly who you are..." He mutters that last part. "So they'll only be a _little_ in awe of you."

"I've already told everyone I'm not a Herald of anything. Told them I'm just a person who happened to have magic shoved into their hand." I sigh and roll my shoulders. "Though I guess by that very admission I'm not _quite_ normal."

He laughs, to my surprise. A short huff of noise that ends abruptly. "Yes, well..."

I grin. "So! When do I start?"

...

"I hate everything..." I groan and wriggle on my bed.

"You should stretch before going to sleep." Cassandra stands beside my bed and fidgets. "Did we push you too hard?"

"I'm fine." I flap my wrist. "I just like being over dramatic, watch." I flip over and roll my eyes back in my head. "I'm _dyyyyiiiinnnng._ "

She snorts and kicks the bed under me, making me squeak and jolt. "I see. I suppose you'll be ready to go just as hard tomorrow?"

"Pfft. I won't complain until after it's over, at least." I grin at her. "Hey, I always wanted to tell you that I love your hair braid thing. I can't figure it out."

She flusters and reaches up to pat her head. "And that is...good?"

"It's like art, on your head. So yeah." I laugh.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While rewriting this story in Rewritten-- I figured I'd have to rewrite all these other stories too, but since I'm only on chapter four here, I think I can just keep going with the changes I had in mind. Not much has happened yet, after all and I never planned for this one to be plot-heavy-- but instead I intended it to be focused on character relationships from the start.
> 
> Rewritten is more about the story and the characters becoming who they will inevitably be, but this one I just want to have fun and make fun interactions happen.
> 
> Sorry it's taken me so long to update!

"Need your help with something." I stop in front of Solas's cabin and look in the open doorway as I call out to him.

He glances up from a bunch of books and blinks, squinting at me. The inside of the cabin is dark, and I'm standing out here in the light, so... "Something important?"

"Something that might make you more comfortable...if I did it right." I grin and I'm sure he can barely see it, with the sun back lighting me. "I already figured out how to make stuff for Leliana and Josephine, but this has taken me a while to get..."

He blinks. "What is it?" A perplexed expression crossing his face before disappearing.

I walk further into the cabin and set a mug of my new formula for hot chocolate. Thick, rich and sweet, I figured it'd be to his taste. "Hot chocolate. I know you don't like tea, and this...can actually help you _get_ to sleep, so I figured you might like that part too." I shrug and turn on my heel. "If you want to try it, let me know if it was any good. If not, I'll run the recipe by someone else."

The cabin is silent behind me as I walk into the Healer's cabin across from his.

"Lady Herald!" One of the healer's call out to me and come running from the far end. "I can't find anymore mustard for the poultices!"

"Ugh." I rub my face and shrug my shoulders. "Go to Josephine and tell her the Herald needs an Herbalist sent to Haven as quickly as possible. I know we've been searching for one, but we need them fast. If we keep running out of stuff that no one knows how to harvest or prepare for potion making, a lot of people are going to die."

She turns pale as a sheet and runs out of the cabin to follow my instructions.

"Are we going to die?" One of the patients asks, squeaking from the bed nearest me.

I snort and shake my head. "It's likely that you'll be just fine and those who get injured _after_ you will be the ones in danger."

That seemed to take most of the tension out of the room.

I turn on my heel, "if anyone else has any dire need for anything, I'll be in the Chantry."

I don't have to ask anymore, I just walk into the healer's cabin and people rush over to me. If no one else has by the point the first healer ran up to me, it's unlikely the rest really need anything from me specifically.

I walk down the steps and around the tavern, up the path to the Chantry. There are sisters and brothers sitting outside in the snow, on benches and in circles that have been melted and raked by the mages for them. They threw up a huge stink over me giving the Chantry to the Orphaned and homeless, and it took a public shaming to get them to shut up.

Seriously who gets mad about having to share a cabin or a tent when there are people who wouldn't have either if you can't sacrifice, even just a little bit?

* * *

 

 

... Solas POV

She is more than confusing, she is an enigma.

I look into the mug I have tested for poison or any other kind of harmful elements in every possible way I could...and wonder why.

' _She is so terrified I might kill her for knowing too much, and then she is friendly.'_ It would seem that my assurances were enough to make her believe me no longer a threat...but this. This is ingratiating behavior- or it would be if she did not do it for everyone.

I sigh and lift the mug to my lips, taking a deep inhale to catch every scent within the drink. Chocolate, milk...something herbal...

I take a small sip but don't swallow. Ah.

I swallow, assured there is nothing harmful. She has confessed to knowing nothing beyond the 'overview', and that she will need my assistance. There is no need for her to kill or otherwise harm me...but there is no reason to be reckless about it. I will not stop checking the food and drink she makes me.

Even if I do simply want to tear into the pastries she makes as soon as they are brought to me.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, let me know. Comment or kudos or even just comment to say 'kudos'. If you don't feel like it right now, that's fine.
> 
> I just hope you enjoyed.


End file.
